


Jump

by ddelusionall



Series: Jump [1]
Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, High School, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-26
Updated: 2011-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23928244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddelusionall/pseuds/ddelusionall
Summary: Jaejoong has called Yoochun again, woke him up in the middle of the night. Yoochun is used to it, but this time things are different.
Relationships: Kim Jaejoong/Park Yoochun
Series: Jump [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734928
Kudos: 1





	Jump

**Author's Note:**

> I am importing my stories from LiveJournal. The original fic can be found [here](http://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/).
> 
> I haven't read this story in a long time, so I may have missed some tags. Just let me know if I did.

“I need you right now.”

Yoochun blinked, trying to wake up.

“Chunnie, are you there?”

Yoochun grumbled out a yes.

“I’m at your house. Please. I need you.”

Not quite awake, Yoochun flung his blankets from his body. He kept the phone to his ear. Jaejoong was rambling. It’d be enough to keep him awake. He pulled a hoody over his bare chest and pulled his sweatpants up so they weren’t riding low enough to see crack.

Keys. Sunglasses. Pipe. Lighter. Cigarettes.

_Phone … fuck, where is my …_

“Yoochun, did you fall asleep.”

_Right._

Yoochun rolled his eyes at himself and whispered a negation. He looked out his window, at the moon hanging low in the sky. Very few stars. Darkness.

He swung his legs out the window to the small ledge. Careful not to catch his hoody on something, he twisted and then shimmied down to the flat roof of the carport. He sat, turned and dropped the eight feet or so to the dying grass of his backyard. A sharp twinge shot up from his ankle and he dropped a hand to keep from falling. He stood up, fished a cigarette from his pocket and lit it while walking down the driveway.

Jaejoong’s beat up, black Honda sat at the curb, engine idling.

The rapid panicked mantra coming from Yoochun’s phone didn’t stop as he climbed in the car, but instead of being a soft whisper in his ear, it was now a desperate plea into his neck. Jaejoong’s hot breath scorched his skin. Yoochun lifted his arm and put it over his best friend’s back as Jaejoong broke down.

They did this a lot.

They did this too much.

It had to stop, but Yoochun wasn’t sure how to make it stop.

As soon as it started, the tears ceased, and Jaejoong tensed in his arms. Holding his breath. Yoochun rolled his eyes again. Jaejoong pushed him away, eyes wide with fear and embarrassment. Yoochun met his gaze and sucked on a cigarette. He blew the smoke at Jaejoong.

The golden dull glow from the streetlight turned everything in the car to shadows. His friend’s face looked more sunken than usual. More bone, less skin. His eyes gleamed. On his cheek was a dark purple bruise.

Yoochun frowned and reached for it, but Jaejoong jerked away. He turned and put his arms on the steering wheel. He rested his forehead on his hands. The sleeves of his oversized sweater slid up his arms.

There was a deep red cut on his wrist. Blood smeared away from it. Like it had just barely stopped bleeding.

And Yoochun was more awake than he’d ever been.

“J-Jae?”

With a growl, Jaejoong sat up straight. The transmission grinded as he threw it in gear, and then he peeled away from the curb.

Yoochun kept his eyes on his best friend while he drove. Jaejoong was aware of the attention, biting his lower lip, casting confused looks at him. They said nothing. After ten minutes, Jaejoong turned the radio on to fill the silence, and Yoochun turned it off.

“Talk. Now.” Yoochun said.

“Fuck you.”

Yoochun frowned and then smacked the dash. “Bitch,” he muttered.

Jaejoong always did this. Called in the middle of the night. Talking non stop until he was with Yoochun and then falling into silence. This was different though, and Yoochun was confused. Probably more so than Jaejoong. He was used to his beautiful friend having bruises on his face. Or his body. His nails were always cracked, and his dry skin always bleeding. He only ate when Yoochun made him, and his clothes hung off his body. Yoochun can’t remember the last time Jaejoong went to school.

But there had never been a cut on him. Not like that one.

He lit another cigarette, and pressed the filtered end to Jaejoong’s lips. He lifted a shaking hand to grab it.

The street lights flashed over his pale arm. The deep cut. The blood on his sleeve.

Yoochun’s chest tightened. His throat closed. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes.

Was this it? Was this … Jaejoong’s last … Had he finally given up?

Uncharacteristically, Yoochun put his hand on Jaejoong’s thigh and leaned over the console. He put his head on Jaejoong’s shoulder. Jaejoong stiffened, and then shivered. He drove a few more minutes, his body shook harder and harder.

Trembling, he pulled the car into a parking lot. He cut the engine. Everything was dark save for a pale light at the top of the building. It’s white glow barely reached the car.

Yoochun stretched his fingers out in invitation. Jaejoong did not take his hand. His fingers touched Yoochun’s palm, and then each fingertip. Their hands turned, reversed and Yoochun traced the deep lines of Jaejoong’s palm and up his arm.

He pushed at the sleeve.

Jaejoong’s breath sped up. He grabbed the sleeve with his other hand, trying to keep it covered. Yoochun pried his fingers away and pushed the sleeve to Jaejoong’s elbow. The cut was not over his veins, but higher, almost to his elbow, in the fleshy part of Jaejoong’s forearm.

It was still bleeding.

Yoochun ran his fingers over it.

Jaejoong’s breath hitched. Yoochun knew he was crying without looking up.

“Come lay on the grass with me,” Yoochun whispered. It was an escape that Jaejoong needed and he took it. He lurched out of the car so fast that Yoochun almost fell into the driver’s seat.

The door slammed.

Jaejoong had too many issues, but he was still so easy to read. At least for Yoochun. No one else seemed to understand.

Yoochun opened the glove box and pulled out the baggie of weed he knew would be there. He climbed out of the car and followed the glow of Jaejoong’s cigarette to the small patch of grass between the street and the sidewalk. A tree above them darkened the shadows more.

Jaejoong sat under it, leaning against his, cigarette dangling on his lower lip. Wet tear tracks streaked his face.

Yoochun sat cross-legged next to him. He pulled a bud of weed from the bag and broke it up on his palm. Jaejoong’s breathing settled as Yoochun loaded the pipe. He packed the weed in and then offered it to Jaejoong so he could have greens.

His hands were still shaking. It took three tries for the lighter to flare. His breath hitched and he inhaled deeply, holding the hit in his lungs. He passed the pipe back to Yoochun. Yoochun took a slow deep hit.

Jaejoong coughed out a plume of smoke.

They smoked it all. Yoochun dug out the resign and loaded it again. Time faded, disappeared. The darkness warped and folded.

Jaejoong held out his hand. Yoochun took it and let Jaejoong pull their bodies together. Yoochun settled his head on Jaejoong’s thigh and Jaejoong’s arm went over Yoochun’s chest. His fingers played with the zipper on Yoochun’s hoody. Up and down. Unzipped, zipped. Over and over.

Weed made Jaejoong cuddly.

Yoochun loved it. Selfish, true, because his friend was going through too much right now, but Yoochun lay back, smiling, happy for a blissful moment.

“Chunnie?”

“Yeah.”

“Why … why … why do you put up with me?”

The happy moment left and Yoochun opened his eyes. Jaejoong stared to their right, at nothing. The bruise on his cheek was a black spot in the dark. Yoochun lifted his hand and traced the edge of it. Jaejoong flinched.

“Because you’re worth it,” Yoochun whispered.

Jaejoong never felt worthy of anything. He shook his head, leaned against Yoochun’s palm. His hand rose and gripped Yoochun’s arm. The sleeve slipped down his arm again, revealing the cut.

“Why?” Yoochun asked, using his other hand to trace the cut again.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Yoochun doubted that. “What does hurt?”

Jaejoong looked down at him, showing him the emotion that no one else ever saw. No one saw his face crumbled. No one saw his heart break, his resolve tear. No one ever saw him cry.

Yoochun wished he was no one.

He hated to see Jaejoong so destroyed.

Yoochun sat up and gathered his friend into his arms. Jaejoong curled into his chest, arms around his waist, under his hoody, cold against Yoochun’s skin. Dull nails dug into his skin. Jaejoong’s sobs echoed around them. Yoochun wondered if this was the last time he’d hold Jaejoong.

The last time Jaejoong would need him.

Yoochun failed his best friend so much. No matter how many times he answered Jaejoong’s calls and held him, Jaejoong still held him so desperately, so tightly. Yoochun could do nothing else and he hated it.

“I love you,” Yoochun growled into Jaejoong’s harsh hair. “I love you, Jae, please.”

He had never told his friend he loved him. Desperation. Selfish again.

Jaejoong nodded. “I know, Chunnie-ah. I know. I … I didn’t do it because I … “

Yoochun finally started crying.

“I was going to. I … but I couldn’t. I … you … don’t leave me, ever.”

Yoochun shook his head. “I won’t. I can’t. But you neither. You can’t leave me.”

Jaejoong tilted his head up and said, “Never.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and then Jaejoong looked at Yoochun’s lips and Yoochun pulled his head back as the emotions rolled through them, and left him breathless. Disappointment flashed through Jaejoong’s eyes.

Yoochun stopped breathing completely.

Jaejoong pushed away. He brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around his body.

_What the fuck was that?_

For the briefest moments, Yoochun had wanted to kiss him.

Yoochun reached for him, and then stopped. Yoochun stared at his back, at the bumps of his spine. The bottom of the shirt rode up, showing Jaejoong’s tailbone. And just above it was a red welt. Yoochun pushed the shirt up. Red crisscrosses covered his back. Yoochun whimpered in disbelief, pushing the shirt up more, to his shoulders.

The welts were fresh, but crisscrossed over old ones.

Jaejoong was shaking again.

“J-Jae … he …”

Jaejoong nodded. His breathing came out in anguished gasps. He jerked as his body fell and he lay on his stomach, hiding his face in his arms. Yoochun touched the unmarred skin between the welts.

“You need to tell—“

“Shut up,” Jaejoong said. He always said that when Yoochun tried to get him to ask for help.

Yoochun’s heart wrenched again. His beautiful friend, his perfect friend, believed his father, believed the lies and words and hate and cruelty. He saw himself as nothing more than a burden. Little better than a dog. The cause of his mother’s death. The reason they had no money. The reason why his father drank.

“He’s been … the last couple weeks … I … I had to strip,” Jaejoong whispered. His hips lifted and he pushed his sweats down. There were more welts on his ass and hip.

Unconsciously, Yoochun touched him lightly. “Oh, Jae, I … “

Jaejoong shivered, and Yoochun snatched his hand back. Jaejoong curled in a ball, and Yoochun stared, not knowing what to do.

“I’m so dirty, Chunnie. So gross. Such a … such … a piece of filth.” He spit the last out.

“Not to me,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong said nothing to that, so Yoochun continued. He moved closer and put his hand on Jaejoong’s bare hip. “You’re so beautiful. To me. You are … you’re …” Yoochun didn’t know what he was saying. He didn’t. He couldn’t.

Jaejoong turned his head, eyes full of disbelief and hurt. “You’re only saying that because I’m … yeah. Just …”

Yoochun held his breath and shook his head. “I love you.”

Jaejoong’s eyes shut and he turned away again.

“I wish I knew how to say what I was feeling,” Yoochun whispered. “I wish you could see the way I see you. I … You’d never be sad again if you could see that. You’d always be happy if you could see you the way I see you.”

Jaejoong didn’t reply.

Yoochun sighed and moved closer. He laid down next to Jaejoong and put his arms around his waist. His hand slipped easily under Jaejoong’s shirt. His fingers traced his lowest ribs.

Jaejoong laughed and squirmed, pushing his body against Yoochun’s. Yoochun smiled, face buried in Jaejoong’s neck. Jaejoong’s arm lifted and went around Yoochun’s side. His hand pushed under Yoochun’s hoody, fingertips playing with the top of his sweats.

Yoochun stopped breathing again. This feeling was so foreign, so surreal. So … he couldn’t explain it. He shut his eyes and just breathed and felt. Breathed in the anger and pain and fear from his friend. Felt his hand on his skin, his skinny body in his arms.

“Chunnie?”

“Hmm?”

“Just making sure you didn’t fall asleep.”

“I’d blame you,” Yoochun said, not bothering to move his lips from Jaejoong’s skin. “You woke me up at three am.”

Jaejoong tilted his head back, and Yoochun breathed deeply, gathering courage, or just going with it. He opened his mouth and pushed a wet kiss to Jaejoong’s neck. His best friend sighed. Content. Yoochun smiled and kissed a different spot. And then another.

Was it just for comfort?

Yoochun hadn’t ever pictured himself with a guy. The girls at school kept him busy enough that he hadn’t ever thought about it.

Is this what Jaejoong needed?

Yoochun doubted it. It would just be another complication in his life. But he didn’t stop him, and Yoochun decided to go with it until Jaejoong’s senses returned. He kissed the soft spot under Jaejoong’s ear. His fingers slid up, brushing over his nipples.

Jaejoong sighed out his name.

Yoochun licked his earlobe and whispered, “I love you,” again. He kept his kisses small, unassuming. Yoochun wasn’t sure he could do more than that anyway.

They lay in the grass until the sun rose, and people woke up and the world started over. Jaejoong was the first to sit up, again leaning on the tree. Yoochun rolled on his back, watching as Jaejoong lit a cigarette.

The bruise on his cheek was harsher in the light. His face was pale, his hands shaking. Yoochun wondered when Jaejoong last ate. He held out the cigarette. Yoochun smiled and sat up to take a drag. They finished the cigarette between them. Jaejoong shut his eyes and relaxed as much as he was able.

Yoochun scooted closer to him. Just below his ear, there was a light red mark. It made Yoochun smile.

“Let me take you to breakfast,” Yoochun whispered. Once again, his lips found Jaejoong’s neck. It was different in the sunlight, but it was still early enough that Yoochun didn’t think they’d be spotted.

Jaejoong lifted his hands and gripped Yoochun’s hoody. He nodded. Yoochun smiled and kissed Jaejoong’s cheek. He pulled back. Jaejoong’s eyes were shut, his mouth partly open. Yoochun licked his own lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss his best friend. Would it help, would it change them, would it fix things?

Yoochun would give anything to help Jaejoong fix himself. But he wasn’t sure.

Jaejoong had relaxed and smiled. Relief, happiness … something tightened Yoochun’s chest and he hugged Jaejoong tightly. They held each other for a few minutes, and then Yoochun pulled away. He brushed Jaejoong’s hair from his forehead, and Jaejoong smiled.

“You always make everything better,” Jaejoong whispered.

Yoochun wished that was true. He kissed Jaejoong’s forehead lightly. “Come on, babe. You need to eat.”

Jaejoong let Yoochun pull him to his feet. When had Jaejoong gotten so light? So frail? Yoochun frowned, hands on Jaejoong’s jutting hipbones.

“You’re not eating,” Yoochun pointed out.

Jaejoong bit his lower lip. “I eat rice. Sometimes.”

Yoochun gave him a long suffering look.

Jaejoong smiled. “What? It’s food.”

Yoochun put his hands under Jaejoong’s shirt, flat against his ribs. His fingers spread between them. “You need to eat.” Yoochun almost growled. He slipped a hand around Jaejoong’s back and pulled them together. This new feeling, this new emotion, this new … thing … between them complicated Yoochun’s thoughts, actions.

Jaejoong hugged him back. “I-I’ll try. Okay. I …”

“Good.” Yoochun doubted Jaejoong would eat. He’d heard Jaejoong’s father call him a fat, ugly cow on more than one occasion.

He took Jaejoong’s hand again and led him to the car. Jaejoong held Yoochun’s arm, fingers tightening, body pressed against his. It was almost like they became one person.

“Will you drive?” Jaejoong asked, leaning his head on Yoochun’s shoulder.

Yoochun nodded. He put his hand in Jaejoong’s pocket for the key. Jaejoong whimpered, and Yoochun froze for a moment. It hadn’t been a noise of pain. Jaejoong’s body rubbed against his and Yoochun gasped out a swear word, lost his footing and slammed into the side of the car, Jaejoong right in front of him.

Jaejoong’s hot breath pulsed on Yoochun’s neck for a moment.

“S-sorry,” Jaejoong whispered.

Yoochun didn’t want Jaejoong to think he was upset, so he squeezed his hand and put his other arm around his waist and hugged him. “It’s okay. I can honestly say that I don’t mind.”

He felt Jaejoong smile before he pulled away.

Yoochun drove to the closest café and they shared eggs and vegetables. He made Jaejoong take two bites for every one of his. He had a feeling that Jaejoong would go throw it all up given the chance, so as soon as they were through eating, he grabbed Jaejoong’s hand and dragged him back to the car.

It was almost eight. They were supposed to be in Physics class.

Yoochun drove through the city and up to the Bluff overlooking the ocean. It’d always been their spot. They climbed down the crumbling embankment to the sheer, flat rock and sat cross-legged. . Jaejoong had three bottles of soju in the trunk, and they drank them as they watched the waves crash against the rocks below them.

As the sun rose, Yoochun took off his hoody. He lay on the cool rock and let the sun heat his back.

“I … “ Jaejoong touched his back. “T-thanks.”

Yoochun turned his head. The sun was behind Jaejoong, and even squinting, Yoochun could not make out his face. He shut his eyes and concentrated on the soft touch of Jaejoong’s hand.

“I was so … after he …” Jaejoong breath hitched.

Yoochun tried to get up, but Jaejoong put pressure on his hand and he stayed there.

“He came to my room last night, and just … “ Jaejoong stopped. “Business as usual, you know, but then he took my clothes off and whipped me and … t-touched me and … he--” Jaejoong shivered, voice cracking with a noise.

Yoochun held his breath, and Jaejoong let his out in a rough gasp.

“I was too scared to move, Chunnie, I just let him and he … a dirty whore. That’s his new name for me.” His hand left.

Yoochun waited a few seconds and then rolled over and sat up.

Jaejoong stood at the edge of the rock, looking out. His black hair blew in the wind. He’d pushed his shirt sleeves up. The red cut on his arm stood out sharply.

“You need to fight back,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong shook his head.

Yoochun stood up. “You need to eat and take care of yourself and grow strong and fight back.”

“He’ll kill me,” Jaejoong whispered.

Yoochun’s throat constricted again.

“Is death better than this?” Jaejoong shuffle-stepped to the edge, his bare toes curled over the rock. He leaned forward. “Do you think I’d die if I jumped?”

Yoochun tried to swallow. Tears stung behind his eyes. He opened his mouth to tell Jaejoong not to talk like that. Not to … jump. Not to … leave him.

Selfish again.

Death would be better than what Jaejoong dealt with everyday.

Jaejoong turned his head. Their eyes met. Yoochun’s vision blurred. He blinked and tears fell.

A small smile curved Jaejoong’s lips. “I even got a last meal.”

“J-jae,” Yoochun forced himself to say, voice breaking. “D-don’t please. Don’t. Just … I don’t know. I can’t … please don’t.”

Jaejoong shook his head. “I’m too much of a coward.” He crouched down, head between his legs. “I can’t do it, Chunnie, I tried, and I just … I couldn’t. I stopped.” He stretched his arm out. The cut looked deeper, more ragged in the bright sunlight. “I started up here to see if I could actually do it, and I … I almost … and then I wanted to see you again, so I stopped, but I knew if I stopped, I’d never do it again.”

He looked out over the ocean. “I’m sure if you weren’t here, I’d jump.” He took a step back, and then another one.

Yoochun stepped forward, and they met, back to chest, and Yoochun put his arms around Jaejoong’s waist. They walked backwards. Away from the edge. Part of Yoochun already felt like Jaejoong had jumped. Just given up on life.

Yoochun didn’t blame him.

“Would you catch me?” Jaejoong whispered.

“If you’ll let me.”

Jaejoong nodded. He turned around in Yoochun’s arms and cried again. Yoochun lowered them to the rock, unsteady on his feet.

“Don’t let me go, don’t let me go,” Jaejoong muttered against Yoochun’s bare chest.

Yoochun held him tighter. “I won’t. I won’t.”

They both froze when Jaejoong’s phone rang. There was only one other person that called Jaejoong besides Yoochun.

Jaejoong pushed up and wiped his eyes. He didn’t answer his phone. “He’s going to be mad when I get home.”

Yoochun bit his lower lip and nodded. “Don’t go home.”

“Where am I going to go? Your house?”

“For now. Yes.”

“I have to go home eventually. It’ll be worse if I wait.”

Yoochun’s heart broke again. Fear for his friend. The need to protect him.

“Drive me home.”

Yoochun shook his head. “Please, just …”

“Yoochun.” Jaejoong voice took on that hard edge. The one that said there would be no disagreeing with him.

Yoochun shook his head hard. “No. I won’t voluntarily drop you …”

“It’s not your decision,” Jaejoong said, almost yelling.

“And you’re going to … why, Joongie?”

“What else is for me, huh?”

Yoochun shut his mouth. They had this conversation so many times. Jaejoong just felt so unworthy. Yoochun reach up and touched the unmarked cheek. Would it still be pale and pure by the night?

He tightened his fingers and pulled Jaejoong’s face to his. Their lips met. Jaejoong made a noise of surprise, and Yoochun’s mind caught up with his actions and he yanked away after just a press of lips. He looked down. Half way through an apology, Jaejoong’s fingers curled around his neck and their lips were together again in a violent, open-mouthed kiss. Jaejoong cried into his mouth. His fingers begged Yoochun for it to be real.

Yoochun slipped his hands around Jaejoong’s tiny waist and pulled him into his lap. One hand went up his back and he lowered Jaejoong to the rock, holding himself up by a hand next to Jaejoong’s head. They kissed again and again, neither daring to stop and have to deal with this sudden change in their friendship.

Yoochun felt tears on his cheeks.

On both of their cheeks.

Jaejoong’s phone rang again, and Jaejoong jumped like he had been shocked and moved away from Yoochun quickly. Dazed, Yoochun sat up, looking for Jaejoong, and finding him already halfway up the Bluff.

Yoochun rubbed his face with his hands and then retrieved his hoody and hurried after Jaejoong.

They said nothing to each other. Yoochun didn’t know what to say.

Jaejoong lit a joint on the way home. Yoochun drove slow so they’d be able to finish it.

Yoochun parked at the curb of Jaejoong’s house. Jaejoong lowered his head, shaking hands on his knees. It barely looked like he was breathing.

The door opened and Jaejoong’s father appeared on the cracked concrete stoop. “Get your ugly ass in this house, you dirty whore!”

Jaejoong winced and reached for the door handle.

Yoochun grabbed his arm. Their eyes met for a moment. “Call me,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong nodded. He shut his eyes, on the verge of tears again and then yanked himself away from Yoochun.

Yoochun watched as Jaejoong shuffled, half slumped, across their dead lawn. As soon as he was within reach, his father hit him over the back of the head. Yoochun’s vision blurred and anger wove through him. Jaejoong fell against the door on the next blow, and then collapsed. His father pushed him into the house with his feet and then slammed the door.

Yoochun gripped the steering wheel. God, he hadn’t cried this much in so long. He wanted to go in there and throw a few punches of his own.

_Don’t let me go, don’t let me go._

With shaking hands, Yoochun took out his phone. He wondered if Jaejoong would be mad at him. It was worth it. Jaejoong couldn’t do it on his own. He needed someone. A best friend.

A … lover. Maybe. Yoochun wasn’t sure what being a lover would entail. But he figured it was like having a best friend. But better. The trust and companionship. He and Jaejoong already had that. Jaejoong was the most important person in his life.

It had to stop.

Jaejoong needed someone to trust. Someone to love. Someone to jump in when Jaejoong wasn’t strong enough.

Yoochun shut his eyes and called the police.


End file.
